


The Weight of Living Version One

by ClassyNerd



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Dark Character, Death, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3742228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyNerd/pseuds/ClassyNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane's dead. I stand in the rain with a pistol in my hand, and everything becomes clear. . . I don't want to live on. </p><p>And for the first time in my life, I make a selfish decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of Living Version One

He's gone.   
  
The feeling is like a weight in my chest, chaining me to the earth. I can't think. I can hardly breathe. Staring at myself in the mirror, my complexion pale, dark circles beneath my eyes, I realize what I am. I'm a ghost.   
  
Perhaps that's all I am now. An echo of a former time and place that no longer exists. Oh, but it does exist. In my mind.    
  
Or maybe I'm crazy.  
  
After Thane passed away, it didn't seem,  _feel,_  real. I knew he was gone . . . I've seen death before. But it didn't hit me until a week ago, after his funeral on Kahje. He looked so peaceful as he was laid to rest. Indeed, there is no rest for the living. Only the dead are at peace. As I placed one last kiss upon his cold lips . . . that's when it hit me. That's when I felt like I could scream and kill that son of a bitch who killed Thane.    
  
As they prayed over his final resting place, I wanted to laugh. Really? Why waste faith in gods when I never see them at work? Do they help us, do they help the world? I've had too many soldiers die to believe anymore. That's where Thane and I were different. He always wanted me to believe. But I've seen what's real. Parents die, children die, everyone dies. No matter what no one can escape that fate.   
  
The sound of lightning brings me back to the present. Electricity is in the air. I can feel it on my skin, tingling. It awakens my biotics within me, and my hand powers up with blue light. I punch the mirror with my fist, scattering shards of glass flying across the room. The pain in my hand is somehow refreshing, as blood begins to spread across my skin.  
  
I exit the bathroom and walk outside into the storm. Lightning strikes again, the bright light almost blinding. The storm around me reflects the storm within me. Rain pelts the dirt, creating a sweet sounding music. I walk off the deck and into the rain. It soaks through my clothing, my black t-shirt and cargo pants clinging to my skin. I feel surprisingly calm. And I realize . . .  
  
I don't want to live anymore.  
  
Everyone I've ever loved is dead. Thane, my parents, my sister. Friend's I've made over the years, such as Ashley on Virmire. When I remember them, a dull ache settles in my heart.   
  
Why go on?  
  
I pull out my pistol from it's holster, the cool steel pressed into my palm. Making sure it's loaded, I point it at my head.   
  
"Kara, don't you dare." Garrus says evenly, standing behind me.   
  
"Leave now, Garrus. I want to die alone." The barrel is pressed against the side of my head.  
  
"I'm never going to leave you, Shepard."  
  
My finger starts to pull the trigger.  
  
"Kara!" His voice sounds frantic now. "If you die now, the whole galaxy is going to pay. The Reapers still need to be killed! They need you.  _I_  need you."  
  
I hesitate.  
  
"Do you think Thane would want you to do this? His warrior angel, his  _Siha_? He would want you to finish the fight, Kara, and not give up.  _Please,"_  he begs, "don't do this."  
    
 It's true. He wouldn't want me to do this. But I want to.  
  
And for the first time in my life, I make a selfish decision.   
  
I pull the trigger.   
 

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out to be rather dark . . . I have a "happier" ending here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3742249
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not promoting suicide by writing this, just portraying how my Shepard felt.


End file.
